Love Letters | By : JustAbi Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4798 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
All Love Letters are from Draco to Harry.
Chapter Two
oOo
No, this absolutely is not happening. Snap out of it. Eat something. Throw a tantrum. Get on your bloody broom and catch the snitch
like a good little boy. Sneak out after
hours and get caught in the Restricted Section.
Act like the prat they expect you to be so this won’t happen. I will do anything you want if you make this
not happen. Anything.
Snape, *Snape*,
pulled me aside and asked me what’s wrong with you. As if I had some power to make you care about
anything. That somehow the weeks of
begging you to speak to me, look at me, react in any way
were somehow shirking my duty to shore up the morale of the Saviour of the
Wizarding World. What am I supposed to
do, take off my clothes and flop up and down on your body until you come back
to reality like I’m some kind of prostitute?
You are not my job, you never were, and you certainly aren’t now.
I am *not*
going to a meeting with you in Dumbledor’s office to
discuss *your* behaviour. I just, I
can’t do it. I won’t. I can’t believe you would humiliate me like
this. He owled my
*father*, you self-centred little twit.
Lucius bloody Malfoy *summoned* to school to discuss the Boy Who Lived’s
mental health like he cares if you waste away and die from starving
yourself. Do you hate me that much?
I will *never*
forgive you for this.
oOo
I can’t believe you put me through that. Have I degraded myself enough for you today,
or do you need more? What would make the shining Prince Potter happy? A bed time story, perhaps?
Do you want to hear about my conversation with my
father after you left? How he is so proud of me, not for the fact that I’ve
managed to beat Granger in marks or finally defeat you at Quiddich, because,
really Draco, it’s not much of an accomplishment if he doesn’t even try, is it,
now? No, my father is proud of me for breaking your spirit.
All I’ve wanted since I was eleven years old was to
beat you and make my father proud. And
he is. I should be happy. I should be ecstatic. I should be throwing a party right now. But what am I doing? Sitting
in Snape's office writing you a letter.
Why aren’t I happy, you ask? Is it because I care about your pathetic
excuse of an existence? Do I feel remorse? No.
I wouldn’t waste an ounce of pity on you. I’m not happy because I didn’t do it. It isn’t my victory. I’m not the reason you’ve been walking around
like a zombie for weeks, but you let them think it was all about me anyway.
You never loved me.
If you loved me, you’d tell them their expectations and adulation and
constant need to watch every little thing you do has gotten the better of
you. You’d tell them I didn’t do
anything to you. But no, you can’t just
tell them you aren’t their perfect Golden Boy, capable of taking on the weight
of the world every moment since you found out who you were. You couldn’t just be bitter for having your
childhood stolen.
No, you indulged yourself in depression, let yourself
slip away, and let them blame it all on me.
Your love is a burden I never asked for, and everyone thinks it’s mine
to bear, expects me to pull the weight, but I can’t because none of it is
real. You just let me go around throwing
myself at your mercy, humiliating myself, killing myself over a pretty lie to
hide your dirty secret.
You have them all fooled, but you can’t fool me. I know you too well. I’ve watched you since we were children. I know everything about you and I know you
don’t love me. I know you don’t love me
because I love you, and I’d never let anything like this happen to you. I’d protect you from anything if I
could. And that’s why I won’t tell.
I’ll let them go on blaming me for everything that’s
wrong with you, even though it’s their fault, because it would break you to
tell them the truth. I’ll be the villain
for you, so you can be the tragic hero.
They can hate me all they want, they can punish me and I won’t complain,
because there’s nothing they could ever do to hurt me more than you’ve already
done.
But when you finally get tired of playing the victim,
and get back to saving the world and all the other rubbish they’ve made you
think you have to do, remember that I loved you, and you broke me for it.
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